Tag: parents

I Am Gay: Live Your Truth

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live-your-truth

For so many reasons recently, I have been thinking about living my truth and how I got to this point.  First of all, my spiritual force, Oprah, has been talking a lot about living your truth.  Secondly, I just recently got married to *gasp* a man, my truth.  Thirdly, the motion picture Love, Simon was released nationwide last weekend.  Lastly, but I don’t promise to go in this order (the English teacher in me is disappointed but I need to just write) the new Queer Eye on Netflix has me crying like a baby each episode.  So for all of these reasons, I have just been thinking about my truth and my coming out and my years spent in the closet and how all of it might have been different if the media coverage today of gay men and women was out in the 90s or if the messages in movies and tv were what they are now.  Back in the 90s, a lot of my coming out would have been different, and much sooner, than the age of 26, that I know for sure.

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Let us begin with Mother Oprah, my force, my leader, my guide.  I love her.  The above quote is from her Golden Globes speech back in January 2018.  “What I know for sure is that speaking your truth is the most powerful tool we have.”  Wow-yes it definitely is and recently I have been having conversations with some of my students about speaking their truth and because of those conversations I have given some long thought about my truth and how it came to be and why it came to be the way it did.  I also heard on a podcast today Oprah say, “Every person who comes to Earth has a responsibility to seek the truest, highest expression.  And the keyword is true…the responsibility is how do you not just speak the truth but how are you the truth?  The responsibility is to show up in that which is the most authentic truthful version of yourself.”  Wowza that is a lot, right? My teenage self wouldn’t have been able to digest that, but my 41-year-old self say hell yes and what I do with that is take on the responsibility to show up as the most authentic version of myself and share my story and live my truth.

MY CLOSET

Let’s be truthful here, I love clothes and I love shoes and my closet is full of both.  Now THAT is a great closet.  But you know what isn’t a great closet?  The gay closet that I and so many people live or lived in for years.  People ask me when I knew I was gay and I always say that I knew I was different around 3rd Grade.  That was the first time I can place a feeling I had about a boy I knew.  It was a feeling of excitement in my tummy when I spent the night at his house, in his bedroom.  THIRD GRADE y’all!  Then in 6th Grade when I knew much more about what was going on with girls and boys, I knew that changing for PE meant getting down to our underwear to put on our shorts and t-shirt and I didn’t hate it.  Hahahah I didn’t hate it because it meant I got to see boys.  Now what I did with that information was suppress it down to the deepest place in my subconscious because I didn’t know what to do with that information.  There just weren’t examples for me to look up to or strive to be like or just to know that it is ok.  There was also a lot of hate.  In 7th Grade, minding my own business walking to class, someone for the first time in my life called me a faggot.  I can still see his face, clear as day, in my mind.  That reprehensible word has so much negativity and hate and for me, fear attached to it.  Now people were starting to notice I was different and they were calling me out and now I have to suppress my sexual orientation even more.  That was fear and not understanding and not knowing who or if I had anyone I could talk to about my feelings.  I remember telling my dad about that incident and he asked, “Where you walking really fast?”  Obviously he had some stereotypes in his head too, but he tried to help me make sense of it.

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In the new Queer Eye on Netflix in episode 4 a closeted gay man gets made over and comes out to his stepmom.  I sobbed like a baby, on the plane, over that moment.  But what one of the cast members said stuck with me when he talked about his coming out and having to climb over “the wall” of three words — I AM GAY.  Those three words were the hardest three words I have ever had to say.  It still gives me a feeling in my stomach thinking about the night I told my parents.  What I know now is that they love me no matter what and their reaction, staring at the wall, was out of fear; fear that my life would be harder and subject to discrimination and childless and partnerless and lonely.  None of that is true.  Maybe childless, but I chose that, and maybe I experienced a little discrimination or hate over the years, yes, but really, none of those fears came true.  But they all shadowed my life and why I kept things in the closet for so long.  One other thing I want to say here, about that night in 2002, is that I didn’t understand that sharing this piece of me wasn’t just about me.  Parents have to go on their own journey too because mostly out of fear, but also out of the need for a moment to digest things.  Wilson Cruz of My So Called Life fame recently said in a podcast, “They [parents] are really amazing now.  They had to go on their own journey and I needed to support them in that.  When we come out to people it’s not just about us, right?  Yes it’s our experience and we’re sharing our lives with people but I think we need to be generous in that moment, as well, to the people we’re coming out to and give them a minute to adjust and digest and then give them permission to show up for you.  But it’s not necessarily going to happen right away, and that’s ok.”  I wish I had handled my parents a little more gently.  I mean, I was surprised they were surprised considering all of my childhood interests, but they were nonetheless.  I started shoving it down their throats bringing up how hot Brad Pitt was and always wanting to talk about celebrity men, just to see their reaction.  Calm down and give them a minute, is what I wish I had done.  Regardless now of where I am or how I got here or how long I took to stay in the closet, I’m here now and I’m living my truth for the past 16 years.

 

One more thing about growing up in the 90s and living in the closet.  I loved season three of The Real World San Fransisco.  Pedro Zamora was my first introduction to a mainstream gay person on television.  I watched the show religiously each week and each week I watched this gay man live his truth, with AIDS.  This was an extremely admirable thing that Pedro did and a gift that he gave to all of us.  Yet, as a 15-year-old, closeted gay boy in small town Michigan, it was also incredibly fear inducing.  HIV?  AIDS?  The only thing I knew about those letters was that it meant you were gay and it meant you were going to die.  Pedro did die.  I didn’t want to die.  I didn’t want to get HIV.  And there you have a huge reason why I suppressed my feelings and my true self for so many years.  I was uneducated and as much work as Pedro did on the show TO educate me, fear won out in my head for far too long.  Part of it was just the way of life back in the 90s and I think, what if I was a teenager now, would I still be scared?  Sure, I am positive there would still be fear, but all of the information and media coverage that we have now about HIV, it is a very different time.  So thank god for Pedro and for his education of us all, but with it came a cost, a fear for me.

Love, Simon

Now here we are in 2018 and there is a major motion picture out in theatres called Love, Simon.

“No matter what, announcing who you are to the world is

pretty terrifying, ’cause, what if the world doesn’t like you?”

***

“P.S. It doesn’t seem fair that only gay people

have to come out.  Why is straight the default?”

 

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What would it have meant to my 15-year-old self had this movie been out in the 90s?  What would it have meant to my parents at the time?  How would my life be different now?  I’m positive my life would be slightly different but not that much.  I’m here and I’m queer and I have a wonderful life.  I might have come out a lot younger.  My parents might have had a different experience the night I climbed over the “WALL” — I AM GAY.  But we all get to our truth when we are supposed to get to our truth.  We all, I hope, will eventually live our truth.  I hope that each person out there, gay teens, straight teens, people of all kinds, find the power in speaking their truth.

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Whether you’re lucky enough to be gay or not —

Find Your Truth.

Speak Your Truth.

Live Your Truth.     

 

 

Sometimes I Wish I Was Gay

Published on by Matt2 Comments

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I’ve always tried to be myself throughout my life.  Of course that wasn’t always easy due to that little word, “repression.”  But overall I think I have done a pretty good job at least surviving some of those milestones.  I survived elementary school expressing my love and devotion for Whitney.  I survived middle school.  Lawd, we ALL survived middle school.  I survived high school exploring my interests in musicals and band and hanging out with friends.  I survived college…..lawd sometimes I wonder how I survived college.  I did it mostly staying true to who I was or trying to figure it all out.  I unabashedly loved *NSync and Celine and still, Whitney.  I did it dancing at bars and making mixed tapes and reading Entertainment Weekly and kind of dating girls, but exploring affection for boys too.  And I’ve survived 15 years of adulthood here in Chicago exploring me and trying to figure it all out.

One of the greatest gifts I have given myself is allowing me to live my life.  Although society has certainly played a role in shaping who I am and trying to keep me a “man” by design, I was designed different and thank the LAWD for that.  Last weekend I was at my good friend’s birthday party.  It had a dance floor, 3 gays, and a lot of beautiful women.  There were a lot of moments, like free style dancing to Journey’s “Separate Ways”, two of us boys jumping into the windows during a rendition of “Out Tonight” from RENT(musical people, you get it), and just a lot of fancy, wild, FREEDOM of dance.  While we were all doing that, another friend was at a table and a guy there said, as he looked at the amazing time we were having on the dance floor, “Sometimes I wish I was gay.”  I wonder, is he saying that he wishes he was out there dancing up a storm because there are so many beautiful women?  Or is he saying that because we were just being wild and free and not caring what society says about it?  I tend to believe it is the latter.  Society really sucks sometimes when it teaches men how “real” men should act.  I feel lucky because I have almost always been able to be me.  I’ve always had friends and family who have allowed me to dance like a fool on the dance floor at a wedding or at the bar.  Last spring I was at a bar in Chicago and it was 80s/90s night and right when we walked in Whitney played, then Janet, then Mariah.  It was amazing and we were dancing like no one was watching. I’m pretty much always dancing like no one is watching.  It was SO fun and we were all sweaty fools.  I noticed some twenty somethings laughing, pointing, and taking photos.  Oh, youth! They only wish they could be as free as us thirty somethings who know how to Say YES to Life without feeling bad or ashamed.

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It just speaks to how our society sends messages to our youth.  I wish more men were able to watch some crazy fun gay guys and think, “man I wish I felt comfortable out there.”  More than anything else, I invite them to dance up a storm, get out there. Release a little of that “how a man is supposed to act” feeling and let loose on the dance floor men!  If you are raising boys, let them explore their interests.  Let them know, leading by example, that it’s ok to dance like no one is watching!

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I’m clear.  I’m courageous.  I can.

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Tonight in yoga my instructor started with an intention, “I’m clear.  I’m courageous.  I can.”  It really resonated with me as I pondered this blog post.  As I mentioned above, I have survived to age 38 fairly unscathed with society’s standards for men and how we should act.  Luckily as a kid, in 1987, my dad introduced the American Music Awards to me.  He saw it listed in the television guide in the paper.  We had just gotten our first VCR.  “You should tape this award show tonight.  You might like it.” It was the night Whitney won award after award after award, 5 total, for her Whitney Houston debut album.  That was the night I fell in love with her.  Of course there were times as a teen I wanted to scream, “I LOVE YOU JORDAN KNIGHT!” but instead I felt I couldn’t, rather I littered my bedroom walls with Paula Abdul BOP Magazine pictures.  There were times in college that I really wanted to cuddle with boys, instead I did what society taught and cuddled with girls(like a few times-don’t get crazy). What comes with age, hopefully, is wisdom and clarity. Finally around age 26 I had the clarity to accept my homosexuality.

Certainly throughout my life I faced challenges that prepared me for this life.  My mom taught me to be courageous at the young age of 8 when it was realized in 2nd grade that I did not know how to read.  Elementary school worked itself out, but when I hit sixth grade it took me hours nightly to complete my homework.  Due to my dad traveling heavily for work, my mother was home alone with my brother and me a lot.  I just remember her picking me up from home after working all day, racing across town to get my allergy shot.  Other nights she had to take my brother to various sports practices.  She always made dinner, cleaned up, and managed to keep my ADD in check as I would spend hours doing my homework, much of the time sitting by my side.  In my line of work I know so many parents who are not willing to take the time to be a PARENT.  Luckily for me, my mother did and through it all, taught me how to be courageous. That certainly has served me academically, professionally, and personally in my life.

I didn’t always feel like I could be myself growing up.  My parents did their best to support me and my varied interests without making me feel guilty or shame.  Though he teased me in many other ways, my brother never made me feel bad about my interests in watching hours of Star Search, award shows, pageants, or taping hours of Whitney Houston coverage on television. But still, I didn’t always feel that I could put my “shows” on in public or in our living room. I always knew I had a safe place at home, but even there I sometimes hid in the basement to create solo dance shows or other acting/performing shenanigans. What I learned growing up in my house, never through direct conversation, mostly just through experience, was that “I can.”  I can watch award shows and Miss Universe and it’s ok.  I can be successful and complete my academic work.  It might have taken me four hours a night, but I could do it.  “I’m clear.  I’m courageous.  I can.”

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What I know now is that society has certain rules and standards and roles that it tries to get girls and boys to follow. Depending on where children are raised, how they are raised, and by whom they are raised has an incredible impact on who they are as an adult member of the same society that “raised” them.  It takes courageous parents, siblings, aunts, uncles, cousins, friends, teachers, neighbors, and all the rest of society to allow our kids to explore their interests, out in the open, without judgement, ridicule, or expectation.

Learning to Love Yourself

I am profoundly grateful that I am gay.  It has allowed me to not follow the rules and to be different.  It has allowed me to not follow the norms set before my male peers.  Being gay has allowed me to buck society.  It hasn’t always been easy, but growing up isn’t for anyone.  It hasn’t always been accepted, but not everything a child does ever is.  Whether it was the family who raised me or the mostly kind people I grew up with or whether it came from within me, I think I turned out kind of alright. Luckily for me, I have never thought, “Sometimes I wish I was straight.”

Say YES to Life!                 

Profoundly Grateful

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Thank you Heart

I am profoundly grateful and thankful that my parents did not make me play sports as a kid.

Growing up in Portage, MI, a town of about 50,000 people in Southwest Michigan, boys played sports.  You went to the AYSO or South Portage Little League sign up on Saturday morning, picked up your box of World’s Finest Chocolate bars to sell, and you were a “member” of the stereotypical boy club.  I guess the next step of membership was getting your uniform.  To me that was the best part!  I fondly remember my AYSO soccer uniform, white on one side and navy on the other.  Reversible!  Fancy!  Though my storied sports career only spanned two seasons, fall for soccer and spring for t-ball, when I was 7 or 8 years old, I’m glad my parents had me try it out and I’m thankful beyond measure that they didn’t make me continue.

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I was recently at a training workshop and the ice breaker the first morning was a name game.  It was that morning that I actually got the idea for this post.  We were to tell the story behind our name.  The name game that day was very different from the name game the first day of acting class when I was 8 or 9 years old, but it took me right back to that place.  It was a very excited and grateful place because my parents found something else for me to try, acting!!  Let’s be real, I’m not sure why that wasn’t the first thing they suggested I do.  Look how natural the microphone(or a wooden spoon as a mic) are in my hand as a child.  Please also note the fashionista in training with suspenders and then THOSE shorts coupled with cowboy boots!  I know for sure that I got that microphone and the boots for my 5th birthday!  It was my GOLDEN Birthday!

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But I remember that acting class fondly.  I remember that I chose the monkey to represent me.  We had to choose an animal that started with the first letter of our name.  I remember doing face painting and improvisation and all sorts of other fun acting things.  Man, I was far more suited for that type of thing than sports.  Organizing oranges for halftime at soccer and picking grass were my favorite things to do.  I can remember begging my soccer coach not to put me in.  I hated it.  And for baseball my mom and dad tell stories of being afraid I’d get hit in the head with a fly ball because I was out in the outfield, sitting down, playing with the grass.  Was it my ADD or my hatred of sports?  Either way, I had better things to do.

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XOXO to my Mom and Dad for their love and support.  You are the best!

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What I know for sure is that in high school I was able to find my “club” in marching band.  I loved those days. I loved band camp and Wednesday night rehearsals.  Arriving early on Wednesday nights was common just so I could socialize with others.  Looking back, finding a place, a group I fit in with was huge in my development.  So was playing soccer and baseball and going to acting class.  Every experience we have in life points us in the direction of where we need to go.  We definitely do not see it at the time, but take a moment to look back on the fun times, the hard times, the crazy times, the dark times and think about it.  Are you where you are now because of something that came out of those times?  I bet the answer is yes.  Although it wasn’t the social norm, I am where I am today because I chose not to play football after school, rather I went to a neighbor girls house and put roller skating and flag shows together to be performed in her garage.  I remember riding my bike so fast past my childhood best friend’s house where the football game was going on, hoping no one would see me.  The boys in my neighborhood could probably have cared less, they were great guys who always treated me well, but they knew I had different interest.  And that is what I’m talking about here.  Had my mom and dad not picked up on my varied interests and put me in an acting class at age 9, would I have had the confidence at age 13 to say, “no, I’m not playing football with you guys, I’m going to go put a show together”?  The answer is probably no.

My parents never told me I couldn’t play dress up, although my mom’s old majorette skirt disappeared at age 4 and I’m still sad about that! One of my first memories was scouring, SCOURING the house in search of that skirt.  I used to love dancing around to Barbara Mandrell.

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The infamous skirt and I’m pretty sure that is a microphone in my hand and oh yes, gym socks!!

But isn’t it crazy that even at age 4 I knew I wasn’t supposed to do that and I never asked where the skirt disappeared to.  My parents never stopped me from laying in front of the stereo on Sunday mornings listening to four hours of American Top 40 or watching Star Search on Saturday AND Sunday(the same episode twice).  We got a family VCR for Christmas in 1986.  My dad actually suggested that, “you might like to tape this show, Miss USA, tonight.”  See Dad, you knew something even back when I was 10.  He’s to credit for my vast pageant knowledge from 1987-1997.   I can’t tell you how many people I scare with that knowledge, or connect with actually.  Who knows what all the little things we pick up on along the way do for our development, but I’m certain that although I felt like I had to hide a lot of my interests growing up, my house was always a safe space to express myself.  I so deeply believe that parents are just trying their best to raise decent human beings who can flourish in this world.  Thank you Mom and Dad for allowing me to take my own path.  At 38, I think I’m flourishing!